They say your life flashes before your eyes when you're dying.
But why does it feel so slow? Why is it so cold?
Shen Mei, second daughter of the Zhao Clan, lay on the frozen marble floor of the eastern wing. Each breath came slower than the last, shallow and rattling in her chest. The cold seeped through her thin robes, but she barely felt it anymore. Her body had been cold for months now ever since she lost her powers.
Above her stood three figures.
Her husband. Her elder sister. Her mother.
They looked down at her with faces she'd once trusted, once loved. Now, in the dim lamplight of the chamber, their expressions held nothing but indifference.
Shen Mei's vision blurred at the edges, darkness creeping in like ink spreading through water. Her thoughts drifted, sluggish and disconnected. What led me here? What brought me to this moment, bleeding out on the floor like a dog?
The answer came easily.
The Zhao Clan, of course.
Her gaze shifted to the woman standing at the center Zhao Shan Lan, the Empress of the Eastern Empire, her elder sister. Shan Lan stood with perfect posture, her blonde hair swept up in an elaborate style adorned with golden phoenix pins. Her crimson hanfu flowed around her like liquid fire, the embroidered dragons seeming to writhe in the lamplight. She looked every bit the empress she was beautiful, untouchable, divine.
Shen Mei had worshiped this woman once.
How naive I was.
She'd thought that if she just helped enough, if she did everything the Zhao Clan asked of her, they would accept her. That her mother would look at her with the same warmth she gave Shan Lan. That her sister would treat her as family instead of a tool.
She'd been wrong.
Shen Mei's eyes drifted to the man beside her sister. Viscount Zi Li Ming, her husband of three years. His hand rested possessively on Shan Lan's waist, fingers curled into the silk of her robes. He didn't even glance down at Shen Mei. To him, she was already dead.
Another slow breath rattled in her chest.
Her mind wandered back through the years, retracing the steps that had brought her here. She'd done everything to please them. Trained until her hands bled. Mastered the clan's cultivation techniques. Smiled through the whispers and the scorn. She'd even married Li Ming not because she loved him, but because Shan Lan had asked her to.
"Little Mei," her sister had said, taking her hands with that gentle smile. "The clan's reputation is at stake. Li Ming is a good match, and this marriage will strengthen our position. Will you do this for me? For our family?"
And Shen Mei, desperate for approval, had said yes.
What a joke.
She'd lost her powers because of that marriage. The immortal favor that had once blessed her had vanished the moment she tied her fate to Li Ming's. The Zhao Clan elders had said nothing, but she'd seen it in their eyes disappointment, disgust. Without her cultivation, she was worthless to them.
Her body had grown weaker after that. Chills that wouldn't leave. Fatigue that made each day a struggle. The clan physicians said her meridians were damaged, that the loss of her powers had destabilized her foundation. But they'd done nothing to help her.
Why would they? She was no longer useful.
The irony of it all would've made her laugh if she had the strength.
This morning, she'd woken with a rare burst of energy. For the first time in months, the cold had receded enough for her to leave her chambers. She'd thought to surprise Li Ming, perhaps share a meal with him. It had been weeks since they'd spoken.
She'd made her way to his quarters in the southern courtyard, her steps careful on the frost-slicked stones. When she reached his door, she'd raised her hand to knock.
And heard voices inside.
Her hand had frozen mid-air.
"You know your sister has lost her powers." Li Ming's voice, low and intimate. "She's no longer of use to us."
Shen Mei's chest had tightened, but she'd told herself it meant nothing. He was just stating facts. The clan spoke of her uselessness all the time.
Then Shan Lan's voice, playful and warm in a way she'd never used with Shen Mei. "What are you saying? She's my sister. Don't talk about her like that."
Through the gap in the door, Shen Mei had seen them. Li Ming had pulled Shan Lan closer, his hands sliding up her back. Her sister hadn't resisted. Instead, she'd tilted her face up toward his.
And they'd kissed.
Shen Mei's world had shattered in that moment.
The woman she'd worshiped. The sister she'd protected and served and loved. Kissing her husband as if Shen Mei didn't exist.
She'd wanted to believe her eyes were lying. That the illness had finally broken her mind, that this was some fever dream she'd wake from. But the nightmare had continued.
Li Ming had broken the kiss, his lips trailing to Shan Lan's ear. "So when are you going to take care of the Emperor? So you can be mine."
Shan Lan had smiled that perfect, practiced smile that could charm anyone. "Soon. Besides, you're still married to my sister. Let's wait."
The words had been casual, as if Shen Mei's existence was nothing more than a minor inconvenience.
Shen Mei had looked down at her hands, watching them tremble. The skin had grown thin and pale over the months, almost translucent. She could see the veins beneath, dark and withered. Ever since she'd lost her cultivation, her body had been deteriorating.
She'd turned to leave, to process what she'd seen in private.
But someone had been waiting for her.
Her mother or rather, Shan Lan's mother. Lady Zhao Ming Yu, matriarch of the clan. The woman who'd given birth to Shen Mei but had never shown her a moment of warmth.
Ming Yu's face had been cold as winter stone. "What are you doing here?"
Before Shen Mei could answer, her mother had grabbed her arm with surprising strength and dragged her into the room.
Li Ming and Shan Lan had separated instantly, but the guilt in their eyes had confirmed everything.
Ming Yu had thrown Shen Mei forward. She'd stumbled, her weakened legs giving out, and crashed to the floor. Her head had struck the edge of a low table, and warmth had bloomed across her temple.
Now, lying on that same floor, Shen Mei could feel the blood cooling in her hair.
Her vision had gone dark at the edges, consciousness flickering like a dying candle. But death was taking its time, dragging out each moment into an eternity of cold and pain.
"Why?" The word scraped out of her throat, barely a whisper.
The three of them stood over her—her mother, her sister, her husband. A perfect tableau of betrayal.
Shan Lan knelt down, her beautiful face coming into focus. Even now, she looked perfect. Concerned, even, as if she actually cared.
"Because you're a curse to the Zhao family," Shan Lan said softly.
The words hit harder than any physical blow.
A curse.
All this time, while Shen Mei had been desperately trying to earn their love, they'd seen her as a curse.
Laughter bubbled up from her chest, weak and broken. It hurt to laugh, but she couldn't stop. The absurdity of it all—the years of devotion, the sacrifices, the hope. All of it for nothing.
Her sister had been manipulating her from the beginning. Her life had been nothing but a game, a tool to be used and discarded when it broke.
Through her fading vision, she watched Li Ming pull Shan Lan to her feet. His arm wrapped around her waist again, drawing her close. They looked like lovers reunited after a long separation.
As Shen Mei's breathing grew slower, more labored, Li Ming leaned down and kissed Shan Lan again.
They kissed over her dying body.
The darkness crept closer, and Shen Mei didn't fight it anymore. There was nothing left to fight for.
Her last thought, as the cold finally swallowed her whole, was a simple wish.
If the heavens have any mercy… let me live again.
Let me undo all of this.
Then the darkness took her, and Shen Mei knew nothing more.
—-
Hello, author here. New novel. Please comment on my pacing. I cannot really tell if I am going fast or slow, so help me by commenting.